The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1887-03-17

The voice vAs shril aud q tribe shsr
with impaisence; bn! Jcannie.did not hess
she did not evea hear. perhaps sh
seemed lost 10 everything but The Will
and rustic Of those silver white wings an
tho soft cooipg OF her doves and pigeon,
Is they came hu.tering down. eager 70
their evening meal.
Mrs Cooper, ber aunt, scarcely kne'
how 10 understand JEANNE. The girl wa
capable aud villios enough. for that ma,
ter, but she conld no more bs made
drudge Of than Mr. Cooper could make
plough OF bis handsome thorough
bred filly. Jesnnie Vas more q kitcheI
maid than anything else. eating that bit
terest Of all bread. the "bread Of depen
dsnce" But somehow, her hard task
failed to spoil, or soil her pretty hands
Somehow. all the smoke and heat Of tb,
great kitchen fire sll the sun and winds o
The fields had failed 10 dim the splendo
oi her blue eyes. OF blanch the hue Of be-
golden bair.
Mrs. Cooper was q trife envious o
Jeannies rare gifts JEANNE had out
stripped her cousins at the village school
and now she bad grown up even prettiel
than Adelaide. Yet she WAS nothing more
than the daughter OF thriftless half
brother, who had married above his owl
station in life. and yet had contrived tc
die penniess, and leave his orphan child
TO his sisters care. That sister, however
to do her justice, had done her duty to
Jeannie, at least, after fashion. But ol
course il could rot be expected that she
would treat JEANNE as she treated Ade-
laide
The autumn day was closing; Jeannie's
busy work was all over at last and SO she
filed her pretty hands with grain, and
sitting down on the raised hearthstone o.
the old fashioned summer kitchen, had
uttered musical sort OF call, which had
brought her pets about her in futtering
flock. One silver. bite. bright, beautiful,
little dove, with brilliantly tinted sheen
on his snowy wings and diamond glitter
in bis rouad eyes. wore blue band
edged with silver threads about his grace =
ful throat.
Beauty, Beauty. called JEANNE.
The bird futtered down at the call, and
pecked the grain from Jeannie's open
palm.
Jeannie's soft, dark eyes grew radiant,
as she watched the pretty, gentle creature;
for she was thinking Of the day when be
first made bis appearance at Maple Hill.
1t had been summer day, golden with
sunshine and balmy with garden odors.
Flushed and heated from working in her
flower beds, Jeanuie had taken her seat on
green border and called her pets; and
among them, with certain air Of good
breeding and superiority, came stranger
with o blue and silver baud about bis
throat.
oh you beauty, you beauty! she had
cried.
Unwittingly she had called the dove by
bis name, and he had futtered through
the sunshine, and settled on her shoulder
And JEANNE, examining his blue and sill
yer necklace, saw name penciled in black
on the blue ground OF the ribbon. 1t was
''Fossebrooke,
Oh. cried JEANNE regretiully, you be.
long at Woodlawn. then?
And a little later, when her garden
work had been finished, she took the
pretty dove, aud ran across the fields to
Woodlawn.
Captain Fossebrooke, the handsome
owner Of the place, and still young man
in spite OF the honors he had won, sat on
a long portico smoking when the click Of
the gate and growl from the dog at his
feet, disturbed him. He rose hastily, and
throwing his cigar aside, confronted Jean.
ME with the same Difference he would have
shown princess.
You are Captain Fossebrooke2 she be.
gan slightly embarrassed, but with grace.
ful little inclination Of her head. The
captain bowed
have brought back your dove He
was with my pigeons when called them
TO be fed
Thank you. said the captain. But ! am
SORRY be gave You trouble. Beanty?
The dove turned bis head and looked at
him askance. but did not offer to stir from
Jesnnie's hand.
Beauty seems very well satisfied, be
said. ! don't think he is particularly
pleased with Woodlawn. brought him
all the way from France. beg your par
don Mics,
My name is JEANNE Rivers, srtlessly.
Oh, yes, yes; from Maple Hill; / re
member am away so much that my ac
qnsintances grow ont OF my remembrance;
l used to know yonr aunt Pray walk in
Miss Rivers
Oh, no. thank you; must hurry back.
Please take your pretty dove. sir.
0n the contrary, do me the favor to
keep him. Miss Rivers.
Oh, Captain Fossebrooke, do you mean
il?
She looked at him with her great, starry
eyes; her sweet red lips apart, smiling.
mean il. with my whole heart. he said.
boving low. Beauty is yonrs.
So Jesnnie bsd returned to Maple Hill.
in the bush OF the summer twilight, With
. white dove still nesting 10 her bosom,
and Captain Fossebrooke bad gone With
her. This WAS weeks ago.
She WAS thinking i, all over nov. sitting
on the hearth. when her annt called again,
and up sprsne Jeannie, snd away hu,tsred
the birds